Death's Path
by Isamenot
Summary: It was ten years ago that the shinobi-alliance defeated Akatsuki and its allies. Everyone continued to follow their dreams, except Sakura who made some mistakes. Now she shall soon find herself in the middle of a riddle? Who committed those murders?
1. Prologue

**Death's Path**

**Prologue**

He was dissappointed. Very much, indeed.

And irritated.

Almost bordering at the edge of desperation – but that was something he would never ever admit. One more failure. One more error. And time was running out. How long still?

He turned away from the body lying on the floor. He was no longer interested that only moments ago he had still been talking with the girl, that she had trusted him, even had dared a small crush on him. He did not care he had promised her heaven and given her death. After all, she had not been the right one, just another waste of time. Time he did not have. Not any lobger.

He left the girl lying there – somewhere in the nowhere, some unimportant part of wood. Would she be found? Probably (and if she was very lucky that would happen before the necrophages started gnawing away at her pretty body). In the end, it did not matter. No one would be able to comprehend her death. Certainly, it was clear to see her life was taken by force. But that was already all to see. One would blame bandits to whom she must have fallen victim. And, even if some petty parvenu would suspect something else, something larger behind all of this (and if his unit, village, government – whatever it was he owed his responsibility to – would be remarkably lucky he would guess at a connection with the other incidences), it would not change a thing. Nobody knew he was still around. Nobody knew he was still alive.

Indeed, he had heard whispering more than once (at least, it had been such in the beginning; as time had passed by the exclamations had become louder and more insolent until they died away at some point in the mob's overfed indifference). Stories about his death. Each one more unbelievable than another. One guy had claimed he had become the supper of a pack of wolves and snakes; another that he had seen him on a stormy night being struck by lightning and vanished into thin air.

And these were the creative versions. It really was a pity to think that some time ago he had been the world's greatest fiend. But what was to be expected of dull people?

It was more important he got his satisfaction out of those great hidden villages. As far as he knew not one of the five great powers had him ever erased from their bingo-books. For them he was still a potential threat, even though there had been missing signs of him for years. Still, he haunted their heads like a nightmare. Well, admittedly, that was not exactly what he had aimed for, but, after all, better than nothing.

He jumped up into the boughs of the trees, finally fleeing the place of his crime, but without a certain goal. He needed to find that person, the one suitable partner for what he had planned; otherwise, he would soon be paying his debts to the reaper.


	2. Chapter 1: Everyday life

**Chapter one - Everyday life**

A new day. New duties, waiting for me to fulfill them. Well, "new" is probably not the correct term. Indeed, everyday follows the same old routine. And if a kunoichi is saying this, it really counts up for something – just consider all those dangerous missions and exciting adventures you'll encounter eventually in this job. Sorry, but this is plain wrong. But in the end, I'm the only one to blame if I can no longer indulge myself like this. Actually, it is an open secret that I have never been able to get over one certain event, that I have never been able to get over this one certain person. All in all, that wouldn't be a problem. I haven't been the only one to be affected, who has taken it to her heart. Comprehension of my feelings was and is something I can be sure of, but not if it comes to my thinking – and deeds.

Having finished my breakfast, I get up and clear away the left-overs. Order is a must. You can almost say I've got some kind of allergy when it comes to things lying around somewhere, things that are not in the place they should be. Ino said once this originated in the fact that my very own life is missing order. That's the only reason I am trying so very pedantically to keep it all around me. She's probably right, though; but I will never admit this to anybody, least of all her. It really is odd: the reason why the two of us were fighting with each other once, why we had this high sense of rivalry, is gone for a long time now, but still, some barriers from that time are being kept unbroken. One of them is my urge to be better than her, never to fall behind her.

On my way to the bathroom, I cannot avoid wondering why I'm haunted by all those unpleasant memories today. It is not even eight a.m., and I've already dealt with unfulfilled romances of the past as well as with destroyed and renewed friendships – not to forget: my own life. If this keeps going on, the day will most certainly become quite funny. The autumn weather must be the reason.

Up until now, I've been standing in front of the washbasin, gaze downcast, careful not to look into the mirror. But why am I still hesitant? That's what I came here for, to look into the mirror. Like I do every morning before leaving home. Some little ritual. And even though one might think that it poses no difficulty at all to complete this task, it really is. I am nervous, frightened of what I will see. But, I can't help myself.

I lay my hands on top of the washbasin to support myself, draw one more deep breath, and finally lift my gaze, to look firmly into my own green eyes, while asking myself: "Can I be trusted?"

Like always, I'm turning away my eyes far too soon.

It is a cold, wet weather outside. It has been raining since the night continuously. Therefore, it really is no surprise that I am soaked to the bones as I reach my destination: the center for mission distribution. Of course, I could have avoided this trouble if I had been jumping like the wind from roof to roof, like any normal ninja would do; but I've got rid of that action quite some time ago, leaving me with no other choice but to endure the clothing sticking to my body.

I let my eyes roam through the room. Most desks are occupied and on every single one, papers are towering. Yes, within this room the wonderful realtiy of being ninja can be seen, which is far away from all those romantic stories about hardy heroes or vicious villains. Indeed, it is the same as in every other society – bureaucracy is the mean to keep chaos at bay.

An everyday and sobering view.

Having renewed this conclusion, I walk over to one of the desks in the middle – after all, the papers are ordered in an alphabetical way – to get the information for this day's duties.

Today, a rather young man is holding the place. Rather young means about my age, which is the middle twenties. And actually, that makes him too young for this paper job. Usually, it is done by the retired people – if it's not some kind of punishment. But Sato, that's his name, lost his left leg during an operation and is due to that no longer able to go on missions. Our doctors and medic-nins are very skilled and can do a lot of things, but replacing lost extremities is not amongst those abilities.

"Good morning, Haruno-san." I was greeted by him, mumbling myself only a quiet "morning". "Looks like you have fallen victim to weather, Haruno-san." He smiles at me and I ignore that. I'm definitely not in the mood for conversations, least of all one having my momentary petty appearance as topic. It seems like Sato has taken notice of this as he does not try again to converse with me. Instead he he hands me a paper and after a small glance I know that I am to accompany him in the paperwork. Luckily, I will do this in another room. While he is only handing out orders and instructions and open to everyone's eyes, I am allowed to do the distribution of orders and analyze reports. At least, this much responsibility is entrusted to me.

The hours are passing by and the towers of papers are shrinking and growing. Regularly, reports of returned units come in, have to be sorted, information is given out that those shinobi are available for new missions again. There are new requests for missions, interviews with clients to create a profile of the according mission. Murmuring can be heard, rustling of documents and the ticking of the clock to where my eyes are wandering off to right now. Eighteen minutes past twelve.

In one go, I push my chair back and stretch myself. Having to sit all day is not that easy, after all. It really is some distress for your back and all that paperwork is the same for your eyes. Will I need glasses in some years? Actually, that is quite an unimportant thought and still it troubles me somehow. I'm just not sure what to think about this option.

My stomach is grumbling quietly, leading me back to the present. I should go and get something to eat, but one look out of the window is enough to me that the rain has still not decided to have a break, and I don't have the slightest desire of getting soaked again, now that I'm finally dry. It's a pity, but this only leaves the smorgasbord for lunch, instead of some hot soup, which would be perfect on such a day. And after all, this shows more fairness towards my colleagues. Since, as far as I can see, none of them shows any intent of taking a large break.

Well, at least some hot tea should be possible. So, off to the kitchen.

While I am headed there, I see Sato near the exit. I must admit, he has never been one I expected to run off for lunchtime. But from the look of it, that's exactly what he is doing. Still, it is strange, that he isn't moving out off the door, but standing kind of helplessly in front of it. I have almost passed him when I notice the reason. Like every other normal person, he is not that excited about the thought of running around in that rain without any protection. But why doesn't he use his umbrella then?

Shrugging my shoulders, I'm done with that scene and have almost vanished behind a corner as Sato spots me.

"Excuse me, Haruno-san. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

I stop and sigh briefly – seems like my tea has to wait, hopefully this will not take too long -, then turn towards Sato. He is standing there rather awkwardly: his crutch beneath his left arm, in his right hand the closed umbrella. He is looking at me with some relief, but there seems to be something else, too.

"I'm very glad that you just happened to pass by. It's the stairs, Haruno-san. Due to the rain, they have become rather slippery, and I cannot get down without having a hold on the banister." Like he wants to proof his point, he shows me his hands – well, actually it is just the right one, since it is a little complicated with his left -, which are both occupied. "Perhaps, you would be able to help me getting down."

"Of course." I walk over to him, but as I arrive, I have no idea at all what I am supposed to do. Shall I support him while he puts on a balancing act with his crutch and umbrella getting downstairs?

I swear inwardly at my own sudden helplessness. Has it really been that long since I have last helped at the hospital, that I have taken care of patients or even treated them? Can I no longer remember the most basic knowledge, such as guiding someone safely downstairs? I feel frustration rising. Want to scream. This cannot be real! Why must I be reminded today over and over again of my failure, of my inability?

I'm not sure if my mood can be seen on my face, but probably yes, since Sato gives me his umbrella a little shy and careful. I take it and look at the object confused, then back at the young man. He is smiling at me. It is a calm, a soothing smile. A smile that only very few people possess. Naruto, my best friend somehow, is one of those, too. No, his is different, not soothing; Naruto's smile gives joy and happiness – that much that at times it is actually getting on one's nerves. No man can possess this much good mood.

How long has it actually been since I've seen Naruto last? The last time was on some kind of village gathering, when the question of succession within the Hyuuga-clan was finally decided and announced? Meaning four or five months ago? Has it really been that long already?

Seriously, Sakura, what do want with all this thinking? It is not as if you could change anything by doing so.

"Haruno-san?"

"Sorry, I've been thinking."

"I've noted that." Again, he smiles, cocking his head a little. "Yes, on a day like this, that is probably very easy. Shall we go, Haruno-san?"

"Sure." I fumble, a little uncertain, with the umbrella, looking down at it. What is it, he wants me to do?

"It would be a great help to with you could just be holding the umbrella while we descend, so that I can use my free hand to get a hold on the banister."

And now I really feel the urge to smack myself. That's such an easy answer. Why didn't it come to my mind? It really seems not to be my day today?

I step out of the door, opening the umbrella. A second later Sato is at my side and we start our way down, making only slow progress (why is it that all important places in this village are up this high?). The steps are, indeed, very slippery. Pools of water have gathered there and the edges and surfaces, polished smooth by uncountable feet walking over them, are inviting to do some sliding. No wonder that Sato did not dare to descend on his own. I, in his place, wouldn't have done it either.

Although the umbrella gives me protection from above, I'm in no way protected at all. The air is wet, making the wind chill, some raindrops find their way beneath the umbrella, and I'm not dressed for some wandering in such weather. Since I never know if I might be sent off to a mission, I choose my clothes accordingly – the jacket and scarf I wore this morning are still at my working place: boots, a simple skirt above some leggings and a plain, comfortable shirt allowing a lot freedom for movement. Besides the leggings, the pullover I'm wearing underneath my shirt is the only tribute to this season, but within this wet, cold weather there is little warmth you can get out of it.

"Say, Haruno-san", I hear Sato suddenly saying next to me. I can hear from his breathing already, how difficult the way down is for him. "May I ask you a question?"

Seriously, what kind of stupid saying is this? May I ask a question? If you look at it strictly, you've already done that, causing the question to become nonsensical. That I'm aware of something like that shows me more than enough that I'm irritated by the current situation. Usually, I would give no thought at all for idioms. To be honest, I'm just looking for something to avoid conversation. But Sato has done nothing to me, he simply tries to be friendly and I'm pretty sure if I looked in his face, I would see that smile again. At least, his voice sounds very much like that. Therefore I keep my gaze stubbornly cast to the steps.

"Sure."

"I've heard that you once have been a very good medic-nin. Why did you give up on that?"

And that's all it takes to make me regret that I took up on this conversation. That's one of the things I don't want to think about.

"Well", I answer, my eyes still firmly directed to the steps. "It's not that I gave up exactly or wanted to. It just happened." And that's it for me. Sato really doesn't need to know that the translation of 'just happened' is: I've lost the trust of my mentor, too often gone against the rules, too much obstinate and rash acting, even though that is usually not like me, too often gone against orders resulting in endangering others, too often thought of other things and neglecting my tasks. Yeah, that could really be the summary of my way to that paperjob.

Again it is silent between us. I can feel the cold getting into my fingers and causing some slight ache there. Taking a short look there, I see how red my fingers have become.

"Do you miss it at times, Haruno-san?"

"Miss it?"

"How it has been. The missions. I for once do so. Sure, the work we do now is also quite important and there is a certain responsibility. But still, the bitter taste of being cast away can't be denied. Like with the old, worn-out shinobi, there is no other use for us within this village. All we the options we have left are coping with formalities or emigrating. Somehow, we are imprisoned." He interrupts himself for a moment, stops and grabs my arm. This action is that surprising that I finally look into his face. It is serious, very serious. The gaze of eyes unwavering. "Haruno-san, there is no hope for me. With one leg missing it is hardly possible for me to fulfill a ninja's duties. The highest thing would be being a defender if the village should ever be seriously come under attack. And even that is not a certain thing at all. But not so for you, Haruno-san. You still have chance of turning back. To do again what you chose years ago when you were visiting the academy. To do what you once wanted to do. If there ever should come up the opportunity, use it."

He looks at me for one further moment, then averts his eyes, his cheeks having turned a light red and his breathing going heavily. "I am really sorry to have bothered you, Haruno-san." As he turns back to me, his smile has returned, too. "That I've dragged you down all this way and in such bad weather, too. I can only offer you to take the umbrella for your way up."

"No, no. It's alright." But, once more, my thoughts have begun to drift away from the present.

"I'm very grateful, Haruno-san, for your help. I hope, you will have a nice day." And with a little bow he sets out on his way.

I guess, only now have I come to realize that he, Sato, too has been a ninja – that within his hearts he still is a ninja.


	3. Chapter 2: Grave

**Chapter two - Grave**

Winter was approaching and very fast, indeed. The warmth of the summer, which still could be felt some days ago, had now completely disappeared, giving way for cold and autumn storms. One such was haunting the land just now. It was late in the afternoon and due to the storm clouds, darkness had already fallen.

The wanderer stopped shortly, straightening himself a little up, pulling his cloak a little tighter around his body to gain what little warmth the drenched fabric still held, and looked around.

Rocks, desolate soil, the ground covered with meager specks of grass, which even in broad daylight would have been more brown than green. Some undergrowth here and there, some bushes that had lost almost all their leaves. There was hardly any hiding place for animals to be found and certainly no cover from the wind that attacked everything mercilessly that stood above the ground. Due to that, it was no surprise that the wanderer had to fight for his balance whenever he was hit by a gust. Only few would dare walking around in such weather in this place, but his destination lay somewhere up ahead, leaving him no option than to continue on his way.

He did not like to admit it, but breathing became harder for him with every step; the air was ripped away from his lips, while the wing kept pressing onto his chest. Further, further, step after step, continuously his feet searched for the way on, for some secure footing on the soil that lay between muddy and slippery clods of earth and stones made slimy by overly drenched moss and lichens. He was not able to hold up his straight position for long, had to bow again which caused him to laugh bitterly. Never, never had he imagined the day he had to bow, he was no longer able to walk upright. Worst of all – it was not only caused by the weather; no, even if wind and rain would stop, he would still be missing the strength to stand upright for more than just a few moments.

When he reached his destination, darkness was absolute around him, stars hidden behind masses of clouds that could not be seen. He had covered the last part of the way only stumbling, even crawling at times, weakened by the long journey, by the futile fight against nature and for fear – right, _fear_ – of losing his footing and taking a petty ending. Was there a chance for him to fall even lower than right now?

But now, he finally stood in front of the dwelling. This word seemed to be the most correct one to describe this accommodation. It was hewn into the rock, had no windows; the only door and the smoking chimney were the single means to show that this was a creation by man.

He knocked and after a moment the door was opened an inch. The interior was filled by reddish light that dyed the person's face, standing in the door, in shadows.

"Yes?" Her voice was hushed and smoky. It sounded like the girl who stood there openmouthed was not really present. The same impression was caused by her dark eyes the wanderer could see as she turned her head slightly – like she was not able to see him, although she was looking at him.

He did not answer, but pushed the door open forcefully and entered the room. The girl did not react, just kept standing where she was.

There was only this on room inside, which was dominated by an enormous fireplace in the middle. An impressive fire was burning there, heating up the air too much, making it stale, even more so, since it was already heavy and heady with the scent of burnt herbs. Still, the wanderer was glad for the warmth, something he could not say about the rest of the furnishings. From the whole ceiling, with the exception of gap for the chimney, hung dried undergrowth, necklaces and garlands made of stones and bones, as well as dead animals. The floor was covered with different urns, pots and bowls, some of them upturned, their contents spread heedlessly across the floor, which made the movement within the room difficult.

"Close the door, girl." The scratchy, high-pitched voice came from the other side of the fire, and still its owner refused to get up and greet the guest. Thus, the wanderer was left with no other choice than to pick his own way around the firepit. There he found what he had come for. After his last failure he had been wandering around aimlessly for some time, had not known where to continue his search, and in the ended he had decided it would be best to return here, the place where it had begun.

The woman, who was now looking at the man, awoke disgust within him. Every single time he saw her, she awoke disgust in him. The woman was old, haggard, her skin wrinkled, her hair thin and in some places completely gone. When she talked, he could see that several of her teeth were missing. What further weaknesses and illnesses she had, which he only could not see, the man did not even want to know. For him she was the very picture of age. And he felt repulsion for age.

"Well, my lord", the woman giggled. "Have you yet again found your way into this humble hut, _sire_?"

She did not take him seriously. He felt it, heard it, saw it. She had not taken up the effort to get up and offer him her respects – ideally with an appropriate bow -, had not even tried to do so. No, she had kept sitting the object that obviously was the only furniture to be called as some kind of sitting place and had to function as a bed, too: a simple construct, covered by dirty rugs. Furthermore, the woman eased herself back provokingly, as if to show some royal demeanor and announce him as her servant, while looking at him directly and shamelessly.

She had the superior position for the moment. He was searching for something and hoped that she could give this something to him. She knew that.

"You know exactly, why I am here, woman." The answer was short and harsh.

"Oh, really, do I know? I'm not so sure about that, lord. Why do you not simply tell me, what I can do for you?" Saying that, she slightly cocked her head and started to rock her body cautiously. Had he been repulsed by her age only moments before, that was now multiplied by some degrees; something that was not the best thing for his already thin thread of patience. She wanted to play with him and in other conditions – and if she had been younger by quite some years -, he gladly would have accept this invitation for a game. But not now.

"I need more of that stuff."

This claim seemed to have roused the old woman's interest, as she straightened herself and looked inquiringly into his eyes. After a few seconds she started to grin, showing that way not only her missing teeth, but also the miserable state of those, she still had. It seemed to be some kind of wonder that she was still able to talk clearly at all.

"That I cannot give to you." She spoke those words slowly, savoringly. Her grin grew wider. "I told you that already the last time you were here. And even if, I'm out of ingredients."

"Where o I find the partner?"

"How should I know? It's up to you to find that person. Try harder! I told you everything you need to know."

Was it her answer – after all it was not her who had to travel the world, searching among all those failures and idiots for the right one -; was it her mocking, no, even blaming tone, she talked with; was it that she had crossed an impassable degree of uselessness: whatever it was, only two facts remained – she had no more purpose for him and his patience had ended.

"What a pity." The wanderer's words were calm, too calm. It was about time to grant that woman her well earned price.

Slowly, with a solemn pace, calculatingly, he walked to her, one step after another. With just the same calculation, with an emphasis on every of his movements, which announced what was to follow and inevitable, he opened his cloaked and pulled something out, something that gathered the firelight and reflected it.

And then, he passed the woman by, going to the door and the dark-eyed girl seated nearby. Her eyes were still empty, seemed to notice not a thing; she was still staring in front of herself, openmouthed, searching among the pots and tiles, seemingly not knowing what she was doing. She did not sense the man, continued her doing without hesitation.

He heard screaming, a call behind himself, then felt a thump on his back. He turned around at once. The old woman had risen, attacked him with a burning piece of wood. Right now, the wanderer was more than just glad for his rain-drenched cloak that, thus, did not catch fire. But he did not have a lot time to think about that, since the woman had started to tackle him with her claw-like, dirty hands, aiming again and again for his face. But it was useless. She was thrown back, hit the wall behind and lay there stunned. True, he was no longer the warrior he once had been; but that did not mean that he was weak, even if he had to rely on potions and witchcraft for some help.

"Don't worry. It soon will be your turn, hag, but fist…" He turned around again, but did no longer find the girl. The door stood wide open. It seemed that the old woman was able to buy enough time for the girl to get out. But in the end, that was nothing more than an unimportant delay. The man stepped out into the rainy darkness. It took him a moment, he needed to concentrate, to order his energies, but then he saw her, saw her shadowy figure trying to hastily stumble away. Not far enough away, most certainly not far enough. It was just a matter of a few short moments until he would catch up with her.

* * *

A new day. New duties. But in truth, the same thing as always: working through documents and working through documents. The weather, too, has shown not the slightest sign to become better, heavy raindrops are still splashing against the windows. My only ray of light is the fact that the day has already turned into the evening, meaning my job for today is done.

With this enjoyable thought I start tidying up my desk and sorting the documents one last time for this day: one heap of files for newly created missions, one for the finished-missions reports, which shall be send into the archive; applications for further missions, which still need to be worked on, status reports and several other documents. While doing this, I notice a file that confuses me a bit.

It is a medical report about a post-mortem examination, a young woman found in the woods nearby Konoha. Certainly, that is not anything that special, medical report are handed in here as well sometimes – mostly with a mission has caused some casualties -, but exactly this one I looked through yesterday already and marked as handed in by accident. I cannot deny that it was a pleasure for me to have a look at a med-report again, after quite some time, to be able to have a look at one of my most favorite thematical fields; but that did not change that the present called me back when I finished the reading, that I no longer am a medic-nin, and that this file is just last report of a victim, that does not need to be paid special attention – regardless, how cruel this might sound.

As is to be seen in this report, the woman is not a kunoichi, she does not live in Konoha, otherwise we would know who she is or rather was, and she is not connected to any of our missions, since in that case there, too, would have been some remarks on her. The post-mortem has not shown any special hints either, and no application was handed in by any village or city to have a look into her death. That is, why there is no reason for Konoha and its ninjas to conduct any research on her. And after all, we certainly do not suffer from boredom to do something like that just for fun. The times now may be peaceful, but there is still more than enough work for shinobis to be done.

Shaking my head slightly, I put the file onto the heap with the "done"-documents, check again if the note "complete" is clearly readable – which is the case -, and finish off the other papers. Most likely it was just an accident that this report was handed in here again and that I got for the second time.

After I have put all the documents into their respective shelves, I leave the building.

It is dark and the lanterns do not seem to be able to lighten up the streets. Hardly anybody is out here, and those who are try their hardest to change this circumstance. Who could be surprised by that? I gladly would do the same and go home without any detours, but there is still something I need to do.

My steps are hasty, as I run through the streets, but as I reach my goal, the store is already closed.

I step up to the glass-door and look inside. The room is dark and only shadowy contours are visible; but on the far side I can glimpse a small line of light. Someone has still to be here. Hoping, that this someone will hear me, I knock on the door, and indeed, after just a few seconds a person approaches.

The bell above the door jingles quietly as the middle-aged woman opens the door slightly. It seems, she hasn't expected any customer for this day, at least that is what her tense posture tells me. Only after I have pulled back my hood, which hung into my face, and she can see who I am, she relaxes and opens up the door completely.

"Come in, Sakura." Smiling, she makes room for me to enter and closes the door again afterwards. "I almost thought you wouldn't show up."

Having said this, she vanishes into the dark room. I remain at door, confused. "You have been waiting for me, Yamanaka-san?"

"Of course", sounds her voice from the next room and just a moment after she returns. As far as I can see, she holds some kind of flower arrangement. "You always came on the 27th of October and fetched some flowers in the past three years. That's why I thought you would come along today, too."

She hand me the flowers with a smile. It is a small bunch whose centre is made up by a single crimson blossom, around which a spiral of small white-blue blossoms is wound down. It is a rather humble arrangement, but that has quite its charm.

"The red blossom is pomegranate. And these small ones are lettuces." She shows me the flowers. It seems the connection to plants lies within this family, since her daughter Ino knows just as much about flowers. "I thought this would be appropriate."

I thank and pay her and have almost left the shop when she addresses me once again. "Would you like to come upstairs? To have some tea?", she asks me, pointing to where the stairs leading to the flat above are. "Ino is there, too. I'm sure she would be glad to see you." Voice sounds sad now, almost desperate.

For several moments I just stand in the door, clueless. I know, I refuse such offers very quickly, without even thinking about them. I just too embarrassed about myself to willingly accept people's company. And, in this special case, Ino's presence would make it much harder for me. Too strong has our once-rivalry been, making it impossible for me to forget it. On top of that, I'm already uncomfortable with the walk I still need to do. And I'm sure Ino remembers still quite well what happened some years ago on this date, and I'm really not sure if she has forgiven me.

"No, thank you. Not today. Perhaps another time." I try to smile, but I don't succeed, so I feel glad for the darkness around me.

Once again I say good-bye to Yamanaka-san and am on my way, leaving the village, going into the wood. It's gloomy there, a little scary even. What little is left of daylight makes the interwoven twigs and boughs look like lurking, threatening creatures, giants, leaning down. The very last leaves whisper in the wind and the continuous dripping of raindrop deepens the silence around me: the air is nearly touchable, but still unreal, an atmosphere of danger.

Although I've indulged such fancies, I reach my goal without a single scratch. It is a clearing, not far away from the training-ground of my youth. The wind blows stronger here than either in the town or in the security of the woods, forcing me to hold down my hood; and the chill of the weather is also stronger due to the wind.

I walk slowly, almost hesitatingly, onto the clearing, forward to its centre where I can see several blocks of stone. Most of them look like cubes, but the one in the middle is taller than the rest and has the shape of an octahedron. This was the very first stone to be set here, and originally it, too, had the shape of a cube. But some years ago, it was reshaped by gifted stonemasons.

All of the stone wear inscriptions. They are the last tribute to the fallen ones. I don't want to know how many names have been put down here. I know many of the names and some of their owners I've known personally.

I go to one stone on the left hand side. Some flowers with pale blossoms are lying there. I guess, it has been Hinata who brought them.

I feel a scratching in the back of my throat, as I stand in front of the stone. I feel sick and can't help but to press the flowers to my chest and shut my eyes as well as my mouth tightly. Every time, every time I'm overcome like this again and can't hold back the tears.

Cautiously, I sink down on my knees and present the flowers in front of the memorial stone. I know I should not do this; I know it will make me feel worse, but still my eyes search for that name. I know, where it has been written down, I know exactly where it has been written down, and it would be so easy to find it instantly. But that's not what I do. Instead, my eyes follow down the lines, tracing every name without taking it in. It is like I could make it unhappen this way, like an event, that has never occurred as long as I do not read that name. Just a single, small, damned spark of hope.

But eventually, I find the name and all strength leaves my body. I let my head fall down, I collapse and feel my forehead touch the wet grass. In this moment, I let go of the scream, the sobbing, let everything go, regardless what I might look like.

I do not know how much time I spent in a position like this. It must have been several minutes, at least, since my fingers have become numb from the cold and my cloak is more than just a little rain-damp.

I get up on weak legs and go away, without turning around one last time to look at the memorial stone, pass the wood, enter the village, back to my flat; and through this all I'm haunted by that name:

Inuzuka Kiba, for whose death I am to blame.

* * *

I know, it has been quite some time since I've posted the last chapter. But the past weeks weren't exactly nice for me and I hardly found the time to continue with the story. I'm really sorry for that.

But thanks to everybody who had the patience to wait this long. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that the next won't take as long.


	4. Chapter 3: Karin

**Chapter three - Karin**

A new day. New duties; but still the same as always. Again, I'm sitting at my desk, working on reports and looking through files. The clock keeps on ticking and slowly time passes by.

October has turned into the middle of November, meaning the wet weather is now more and more accompanied by the biting chill of winter – even if it is quite nice outside today. The sky is clouded, but every now and then a sunray finds its way down. And above all, it is not raining. Whenever I look up from my work and cast a view through the window, I can't help but smile. It's so nice feeling this relaxed.

"Haruno!", someone shrieks in the front-room. My mood turns bad instantly. This is something I was not hoping for. Not only do I have bear with the views of my colleagues resting on me –curiosity can be so cruel – while trying to tell them with my eyes that I have no idea what's going on; no, I'm certainly not looking forward to deal with the author of this noise. Thus I turn my attention strictly onto the document in front of me, some report about a D-rank mission, and hope that this person will just vanish if I do not show any reaction. But, as was to be expected, that is favor not to be fulfilled.

After just a few moments she stands in front of me and throws a file hard on my desk.

"Mind to explain what this is, Haruno?"

My grip around the pen tightens. _Just stay calm, Sakura! Do not allow that woman to provoke you. _I take a deep breath and look up to the female, standing there with a hand on her hip and looking at me challengingly.

"I'd say that is a closed file, Karin", I answer her as calmly as I can, without even looking at the pile of papers.

"You don't say. I never would've guessed that it is a file."

"Oh, then you really came to obtain that knowledge?" I can't help it. I know that, too, is something I should not do, but I simply cannot resist the urge to tease her. And it seems to work, since her eyes grow narrow behind her glasses, her lips grow tenser.

"Tch, don't mistake me for yourself. I wanna know why you ignore this file?"

"Why _I_ ignore this file? Since when am _I_ responsible for certain files? Just in case you shouldn't know: That file could have gone to anybody here. So, why don't you take it and get on someone else's nerves? I've got work at hand", I snap at her, turning my complete attention back to the D-rank report, which hasn't become more interesting a bit.

There is silence for long moments. Obviously, Karin has no intention to move even a millimeter. She does not say a thing either. I cannot even hear her breathing. It seems she is just standing there, in front of my desk, and staring down on me.

I try to ignore her and her behavior for some time; but since my nerves are tense, since I'm irritated, since Karin's presence enrages me on a regular base, it becomes harder by the second to do so. And, eventually, I slam down my pen, look up and hiss: "What?"

Karin remains completely unimpressed by my temper. Still, she stands there relaxed, looking at me. Then, ever so slowly, she removes her hand from her hip, brings it up to her face to adjust her glasses and finally traces her fingers through her long red hair. With just the same slowness, she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"And your colleagues always sign their work with your name?"

Ouch. Looks like this was her round. If my signature is on the note of processing, I can no longer deny that this is somehow my business.

I close my eyes, bite my lip and take another deep breath to calm down. If it is one of my file, which one is it? I don't think I've made any mistake with any file. But if that's the case, why has Karin come?

And then revelation hits me – like a slap in the face: Probably Karin has just a question to ask concerning my notes. It wouldn't be the first time, something like that occurred. And her entrance she made most likely in such a pompous way to get on my nerves and provoke me. Which has worked quite well. Congratulations, Sakura, you've succeeded once again in making a fool of yourself without any reason. I could slap myself for that.

But whatever the case, what happened, happened. I can only try to get this situation back under control.

Therefore, I take another breath before I turn back to Karin, smiling politely: "Well, Karin, how can I be of help to you?"

Seeing her smile self-satisfied due to the change in my behavior, I instantly regret having done so.

"Look, look; that is a good girl. And now seriously. Could you finally take a look at this damn file and tell me why you don't do anything?"

I pull said object towards me and recognize, as soon as I hold it in my hands, that it is my ever-returning file.

Confused, I look at Karin. Indeed, I'm so confused that for the moment I forget being angry with her. "That is just a medical report, Karin. The post-mortem examination of an unknown woman. It has no connections to any of our missions. Therefore, it does not belong here. I cannot help you with this one. The file was simply handed in here once by accident and that's all."

Karin shakes her head and mumbles something incomprehensible. "And I thought you are a medic-nin. Didn't the file even slightly pick your interest?"

"I admit, it was interesting to have a look at a medical report after all this time. But what else? It's not like I could help the victim. She is dead, Karin. All tasks necessary have been done and documented. There's nothing else to be done. At least, nothing I could do."

Karin looks at, silent, blinks once and shakes her head again. "When did you trade your brain for straw?" She asks this question quietly and more to herself than to me; still it has not prevented that I have heard. But before I get a chance to spit a venomous retort at her, she continues speaking ever so calmly: "Do you really believe, this file kept returning to you continuously by just some stupid accident? Actually, I thought you were more competent than the rest of those scribblers here. Obviously a mistake. You are not even able to recognize a favor if it is put right in front of you." She snatches up the file and turns around to go away. "You know what, Haruno? Just forget it! Forget I've come here! Forget this idiotic file! And go hide in the miserable hole you call yourself! Why should I care? It's not like that would be any of my business." And then she is gone.

* * *

It is three thirty-seven, nighttime. I'm staring at my alarm-clock and have been doing so for several minutes. I cannot sleep. Karin's visit keeps haunting my mind. I have no idea what that woman came for. Bad enough that she kept getting on my nerves with the same file for several days. But that she needed to expose me like that in front of my colleagues.

I sigh and turn around to look no longer on the alarm-clock. I shut my eyes tightly. Sleep has to come eventually.

What is nagging on me the most about this incident, is that this traitor – and I still see Karin as that, even if she worked these past ten years obediently and loyally for Konoha – claimed she wanted to help me. I really do not have the slightest clue with what. Just the thought of receiving help from that woman is completely absurd. We are no friends, have never been friends. There always has been something between us, which we couldn't overcome. Most times we meet we start quarrelling or even fighting about something. It's just an undefeatable urge within us.

I must admit, concerning our relationship and how it plays out to be, I'm not the innocent and blameless. On the contrary; I even guess that it is my jealousy of Karin that causes the way I treat her. Jealousy, envy that it was her privilege to spend time with Sasuke when he had been long lost for me. Envy and jealousy that she was the last one to travel with Sasuke before he disappeared. That is just not fair. It is a privilege she had no claim for. Naruto and I have tried for years to get him back, to find him, even when all traces of him were gone. And Karin on her part? She dropped him the moment some minor difficulties appeared. So, why her and not me?

What I'm trying to say is that in my loyalty towards my team-member I've thrown away my career, my future. I've given up everything. And what do I get but mockery and scorn.

Again I turn around. It's three forty-two now. Only five minutes have passed and still sleep seems to be far, far away.

Why does Karin think she needs to help me? I don't like this. I don't like the thought of owing her something afterwards. And even less I like that she read, saw something in this cursed file that I missed.

In one go, I sit up. I'm far too agitated to hope for sleep to come. Thus I get up, get dressed and am on my way to the medical archive.

The file lies in front of me, on the small desk. For now, I'm the only one in the archive, but that isn't really surprising. If I think back to the time Tsunade taught me, it is hardly comparable. Not only were the controls for entrance more strict – not only showing your ninja-ID and on you go -, but even in nighttime the archive used to be well visited by those who chose medical education and spent their night in the study of those some curious cases that occur during a shinobi's everyday time.

But since the alliance of the great villages ten years ago, a lot has changed. The world seems to have calmed down. There are only few conflicts (especially among those five ninja main-forces that formed the alliance the occurrence of fights has been reduced drastically), it an era of peace. And if riots should rise, it is most likely within one of the smaller nations and those problems are usually solved pretty fast.

Therefore, it seems the need to study the different types of injuries, their characteristics and how to treat them has reduced, too; just because number of victims and injured has lessened.

Thus it is hardly surprising that my lamp is the only one burning among all those shelves and books. It is quiet, almost like in a scene out of some horror story.

By now, I have read the file four times and still noticed nothing out of the ordinary. The victim is (or rather was) a young woman, approximately eighteen years old. Physically healthy, no restrictions. She was no kunoichi (which is good for us, since otherwise there would have been long and complicated procedures and negotiations about what to do with her corpse). She didn't have any forehead-protector nor weapons on her nor did her body show any signs you would expect with a kunoichi. Her muscles were normally developed, but not trained in the least, which would have been the case with any ninja. Her chakrastreams were intact and unused, since she never forged any chakra and thus no signs of usage or damage could be caused.

But her level of both body and spiritual energy increased around the time of her death. But that most likely only occurred since she was hunted down right before she died and her body, as some kind of protective and defensive reaction, tried to produce chakra on its own to improve her chances of survival. It is not known if the human body really can react like this (not to talk about how successful something like that might be), but there is a debate among medic-nins that a human being is able to produce "natural chakra", as it is called, if extreme situations occur. Supporters of this theory claim that this "natural chakra" is the origin of the chakra we use today (somewhere the idea for it needs to have roots) and that corresponding examples can be found in legends about heroes that rose above themselves and their powers. The problem is myths can hardly give any real evidence. And research on ninjas is out of question since we already learn to forge chakra as children. And civilians, understandably, refuse to support medic-nins when it comes to this research.

Be that as it may, I haven't found a single hint what Karin thinks she discovered.

Five o'clock has passed already. I should get back home. Since I've made sure that I didn't miss a thing, and thus have calmed down, I'll probably be able to get hours of sleep now.

Having come to this conclusion I'm about to close the file when my eyes catch something. The substances found in her body. As is to be expected, the remains of her last meals were found, more or less digest, but so were traces of different vegetable toxic substances, like several alkaloids, as well as substances used for medical purposes.

I know them; quite some of them I myself used mix during my medical training-days to produce some medicine or hyourougan – a process that can be quite critical, especially if toxins are in the making, too. You need some real skill and meticulousness to measure the ingredients in a way they wouldn't harm the consumer in the end. But such a combination of toxics and healing substances I've never seen before. It even seems contradictory and the concentration of some substances, most of them toxic, seems to be extremely dangerous.

I write down all of those substances and am on my way to the library to look up which plants would provide them.

Soon, I reach my goal, the entrance is just as easy as for the archive, and the books I need I've gathered up quickly. Still, it takes me some time to be certain which plants had to be the origin of those substances: carduus crispus, narcissus elegans, tulipa lanata, rosa rugosa, macleaya cordata, papaver somniferum, betula grossa, achillea salicifolia and centaurea cyanus.*

Now that I know the plants I have no more clue than before. As I thought, these ingredients are contradictory. Some of them strengthen the chakra or at least the physical resistance and are, thus, used for medicine and hyourougan; while others contain substances that harm the body, reduce chakra or even kill.

No matter how I look at this: I just don't get why one and the same person should be taking such a contradictory mixture. And I don't know any recipe that would use all of these plants.

I sigh frustrated. It is harsh, but I must admit that Karin did notice something quite intriguing (if this strange mixture really is what she was talking about – but that is most likely the case). I just don't know what is gnawing on me more: the fact that Karin was right or that I can't solve this riddle.

But the last word still has not been uttered; and thus I get up to fetch the books containing the recipes of all known medicines and hyourougan. It will be quite some trouble work through all of them, but that I do not know this combination does not mean it doesn't exist.

Luckily, most volumes possess lists that make the search easy; but if it comes to the very old books and scrolls I have to look at every single page.

I'm not sure how long it took me to finish this task, but my eyes sting. And I haven't found anything either. Positive: I'm not that dumb that I forgot some mixture; negative: I'm not done with this riddle.

I have to suppress a yawn. Tiredness is claiming me now. Unfortunately, a look at the watch steals the hope for some sleep. Eight twenty-seven. In about half an hour I have to start my day's work.

I put away the books and go outside. The first, early visitors of the library look at me surprised. Whe might have been the last time someone spent the night within these walls?

Unmotivated, I leave the building behind me. There is no sense in going home now (even if I could use some strong coffee); but I don't feel like going straight to work either. Therefore I keep walking around aimlessly.

It is cool, as was to be expected, but the air is really soothing and calms the starting head-ache. It is a pity that I don't have the time to keep floating like this. Soon I must turn back.

As I look up to see, where I have been wandering to, I'm somewhere in one of the living quarters of Konoha. To be precise, the one where Karin settled down. For a moment I just stand there, not certain what to do. Then I shrug and start walking again.

Karin can go to hell if she wants; there are tasks waiting for me.

* * *

Carduus crispus = a thistle; symbolizes resistance, resurrection, redemption, fall of man.

Narcissus elegans = a narcissus, obviously; symbolizes resurrection, death, underworld and rebirth

Tulipa lanata = a tulip; symbolizes resurrection, blood, spring, arrogance/vanity, transience

Rosa rugosa = a rose; symbolizes blood, secret, youth, battle, love, death, underworld

Macleaya cordata = an Asian poppy

Papaver somniferum = a poppy; poppies symbolize memory and death

Betula grossa = a birch; symbolizes pass-evil, spring, luck, strength, life

Achillea salicifolia = a yarrow; symbolizes pass-evil

Centaurea cyanus = a cornflower; symbolizes pass-evil, persistence, loyalty

* * *

Well, another chapter finished. Hope you enjoyed reading it. I'm not sure when I will be able to upload the next one. I already know what will happen there and how to structure it, but it still needs to be written and I'm still struggling with some details. So, it might take some. Please bear with me.


	5. Chapter 4: Beginning

**Chapter 4 – Beginning**

_Ino: Don't you think, it's about time to move on?_

A new day. New tasks. And if I'm lucky – or not, however you want to look at it – this really might be the case this time.

I have been waiting for about ten minutes for the meeting in the hokage's office to end so that I may enter. All this time, I have been staring at the wooden door, turning away from it, going a few steps up the hall, going a few steps down and turning towards the door again, before I start the whole process anew. I literally have to force myself now to lean myself against one of the walls.

That I am restless should be comprehensible. The last time, I was ordered here, was right after Kiba's death. It hadn't been exactly a nice chat; to be honest, it hadn't been any kind of chat at all, rather a monologue coming from Tsunade. I can still see, how she kept pacing furiously in front of me. I can still hear her voice, her words. They contained anger, confusion, lack of understanding. And above all this, disappointment. Disappointment for what I had done. She kept on saying that there was no way to continue like this. She kept asking what I had been thinking. She kept telling me that I would have to face the consequences. She said time and again that she was to punish me.

What she didn't say was that I am a failure, a looser.

At some point, she sank down onto her chair resting her elbows on the table, folding her hands and leaning her head against them. She kept silent. She kept silent for a long time. And so did I. What was I supposed to say, anyways? That I was sorry? I was without a doubt. I am still. Kiba did not deserve to die just because of my stupidity, my stubbornness. But still, that is what happened. I cannot change it.

There was – is – no explanation for my actions, no legitimating. Therefore, I couldn't say a thing and kept staring in front of myself, without seeing anything. I had submerged into my own thoughts, into wrath for myself.

Once again, I had left the team during a mission without permission. Once again, I had followed some meaningless rumor. A rumor that could have described anybody. The worst about this, I had known this quite well. But the urge, the impossible gleam of hope that it really might have been Sasuke, of whom we had neither heard nor seen a thing since the battle of the fourth world war, had made me go, like countless times before.

And like countless times before, I had ended up in trouble. I had stumbled right into an ambush, an ambush of some idiotic bandits. They had outnumbered me and attacked in a moment when I had been unfocused. If my team hadn't followed me, if Kiba hadn't caught up with me in time, I would have died certainly.

But my team had followed me, Kiba had caught up with me just in time, and it had been him to pay the price of his life in the unfolding battle.

I shake my head and fight against the tears welling up in my eyes. I don't want to think about that, I don't want to be reminded that such an incident was necessary to show me what I had been doing. And what followed afterwards, is still obvious. I was moved to office duties, just for some time; but I gave in to passivity, idleness, sloth. I showed no ambition of ever leaving this position, although there was always such a possibility.

I also retreated from my friends and acquaintances. Only Ino and Naruto – and Kakashi from time to time – are still visiting me, trying to talk to me or even to d something together. As for Tsunade, I have avoided her ever since that day. I just don't want to see the bitter disappointment I must hae turned out to be in her eyes.

Finally, the heavy wooden door opens, and a tall man steps through. Hyuuga Neji. His pale, seemingly pupilless eyes rivet shortly on me, before he nods wordlessly into my direction and leaves.

Neji is one of the people who act cold and distant towards me, there's no need to deny that. I guess, he still has not forgiven me for Kiba's death. Not so much, because they were such great buddies, but more likely because of Hinata, his cousin, who suffered quite a lot from the loss of her former teammate.

"Sakura?", asks a familiar voice. Slightly surprised, I turn around, and indeed a young, blonde woman is standing in the door. I look at Ino befuddled; I haven't expected her to be here, at least not as assistant to the hokage. This is Shizune's job, but said woman is not present as a quick glance around the room shows me.

Ino gives a harsh nod towards the room, telling me thus that I should enter, and closes the door behind me after I've followed her order. She quickly hands Tsunde some files before sitting down at a desk in one corner of the room to file through some documents.

"Take a seat, Sakura", the hokage invites me and I take a chair across from her. Everything within the room looks the same it had during my apprentice time. Files are towering on the desk, some personal papers are scattered around, a little sake-bowl is placed next to her right hand. Even the hokage herself hasn't changed a bit. Her true age is only known by herself and Shizune, at most. Most likely, though, Tsunade has already passed the age of sixty, but still has the appearance of a young woman around the middle of her twenties.

She takes a good, long look at me, examining me causing me to become nervous. Finally, the hokage eases herself back into her chair, quite relaxed. "It's been some time, hasn't it?"

I've prepared myself for everything, but most certainly not small talk. Thus, I can only nod.

As if she was my reflection, the hokage repeats this gesture sympathetically. "And just between you and me, it was more than about time."

Again my only reaction is a short nod, causing Tsunade to frown slightly. It seems as she is not very happy with the way I'm behaving. But did she really expect that after all those years we would sit down for a little chit-chat over some tea?

Whatever her expectations and hopes might have been, she shrugs them off with a little sigh. "Well then, shall we get down to business? I bet, you are curious to why I have ordered you here today. Well, Ino found quite an interesting request among all of those applications for missions. Isn't that true, Ino?"

My friend hastily looks up, looking me into the eyes for just a moment, but resumes to also just nodding silently and turns her attention back to the papers in front of her, as if she was uncomfortable to be dragged into this conversation, too.

Tsunade only shakes her head. "You gals are seriously flooding the whole room with your blabbering." She clears her throat, turns to me again and continues. "Well, as I said, Ino found this application. Written by you. And now I want to know, why." She hands me the file. Indeed, I put up this mission for an investigation of several undisclosed deaths.

"I don't know", I answer and can see at once how the expression in Tsunade's eyes turns from excitement and hope to disappointment. Ino sighs loudly in her corner. "I mean, someone came to me with the request of making up this mission. I took a look at the facts and thought it would be adequate."

"See." The hokage does not look happy when she uttered that word. It is as clear as day, that I picked an answer she didn't want to hear. "But why should I approve this mission?"

"Why?" Why is Tsunade interested in something like that? It's not that as if the application would refer to a dangerous or precarious S-rank mission. It's just a small investigation mission I ranked C for reasons of certainty and experience level.

"Well, Sakura?" I can hear that she is getting impatient. If I don't answer soon – and for her satisfaction at that – I'll probably witness one of her infamous fits of rage.

And thus I offer her, unwillingly, the only answer that comes to my mind – which is the one given to me by Karin. "If we do not act, negative consequences might occur. For Konoha – definitively; but maybe also for the whole concept of ninjas and their nations as well. The victims of those deaths show up sporadically. They have no similarities or any connection with one another. But still there are two things they have in common: first of all, everyone of them has produced natural chakra right before their deaths; secondly, their blood contain traces of the same active ingredients. Whatever caused their deaths, they must have taken the same form of hyourougan. None of the victims was a ninja. They should not possess hyourougan in the first place. Therefore, we should find out as soon as possible, how they acquired it. In the worst case scenario, we consider that a rogue medic-nin is distributing this substance among civilians as a drug. If this a option should prove to be true, the consequences can no longer be predicted. However you might look at it, this is a potential danger we need to find and get rid of immediately."

As soon as I have finished my answer, I can a smile forming on Tsunade's lips; but something about it seems odd. It only seems to be half a smile. "So, you're still able to pull that. And here I was worried", I can hear her mumble to herself. Right afterwards she presents the next question to me: "And whom would you suggest for taking this mission?"

This question is easy enough to answer: "Karin."

If I suggest that redhead and she gets the mission, she will be happy and I am rid of her for the present.

The hokage does not seem to be surprised by the given answer, unfortunately she does not to be satisfied by it either. Somehow, this reminds me of the old times, when my relationship to this woman was still unburdened. I feel as if she would once again test my knowledge as she has done often during my apprenticeship. "And I shall send Karin off to this mission all alone?"

"No, of course not", I answer instantly and just manage to hold back my comment that Karin can't be trusted. But since I have no clue what Tsunade is thinking about her, such a statement could prove to be rather dangerous. "She should be accompanied by another ninja. After all, this is just a simple investigation; therefore, one more ninja should be enough, a chu-nin probably. The only criterion here is that he or she should have some medical knowledge, since this is the only clue we have as of now."

"And whom do have in mind concerning this?"

There is a sparkling in the hokage's eyes as she poses this question to me – a sparkle, I do not like at all. But I cannot put my finger on it what it is trying to tell me.

However, the more important matter is hand is whom I want to doom to spent the next time with Karin. Unfortunately, no one comes to mind who would really deserve that.

Obviously, I've taken too much time considering, since Tsunde speaks up once again: "What about you, Saku-"

"No!", I interrupt the hokage, while standing up rashly. What makes her think of something like that? What makes her think to send me off on a mission? I cannot go on missions. True, I'm always prepared that I might be sent off, but all those preparations are only superficial, like wearing appropriate clothes. Now, that I'm confronted with such a prospect, I know that I'm afraid of it. I cannot. I'm a threat for others. Does Tsunade not know this? Has she forgotten what happened last time?

My heart is racing as I glare at the blonde woman. It seems she has not expected such a strong reaction on my part; otherwise she would already have suffered a fit of fury by now. Not giving her the chance to recover herself and to throw one in the end, I turn around and storm out of the room.

* * *

To get rid of the two woman had weakened him. More than he actually would have liked. His breathing was still heavy. He needed rest. In days long gone, he would have laughed about such problems. In days long gone, such problem wouldn't have occurred to him even in dreams. But now- now he was an old man. A really old man, regardless whether he wanted to be or not.

Of course, he had been an old man for ages by now. But some years ago, no one would have assumed so.

When had it begun? It had to be sometime after the last war. That war that marked the beginning of his downfall. He had lost, even though he still did not know, why. Some minor detail had not acted the way it had been supposed to. It had ruined everything. But at that point of time, some many parties had entered the battle, so many fighters and warriors – dead ones as well as living ones – that it had been nigh impossible to have everything in view. How should he, therefore, know what the mistake had been? Granted, if he had to guess, he would say it had been due to the brat that contained the Kyuubi. Or had it been the poison-breathers that extinguished major parts of his army and allies? Probably both.

In the end, all thinking and considering did not change the fact that he had lost the war and had been forced to escape from the battlefield. This was his only triumph. His opponents might have obtained the over-all victory, but they had not been able to annihilate him. And they knew, what he could do. They could only pray for him never to return again. Unfortunately for them, that was exactly what he had in mind. He was still alive, was still breathing, he could still take revenge.

The wanderer bent forward to rake the fire. As long as the storm was raging outside, there was little reason to continue on his journey, even though he was in a hurry. After all, what good was there in making haste if it got him killed. For now it was better to stay put; and who knew, he might something useful in all this trash scattered around. On second thoughts, it had not been the ideal course of action to kill those women, he had to admit that. It would have been better if he had tortured them to make sure they really had become disposable; but right now, patience was a luxury item he could barely effort.

Besides, ten years had already passed. Ten years in which he had been patient. He wouldn't call that a feat, since had waited even decades before for the perfect moment to arrive. But in all that time, the sword named death hadn't been swinging above his patience.

Memory was bitter, to think how those poison-breathers had surprised him. But how could he ever have suspected something like this that his enemies were prepared to go that far. After all, there had been more than enough among the officers who would have never been willing to sacrifice the lives of their subordinates; but the poison-breathers had forced them to do so. Furthermore, none of those fighting at that moment – be it his allies or enemies – had been wearing a gas mask. They, too, had had to breathe in the poison. Just as he had done himself.

The only thing that remained for the old wanderer was the hope that many ninjas had been killed by that attack; that was the only consolation he had.

Slowly, the old man stood up from the fire and started searching through the pots and bowls. There had to be something edible around here. Unfortunately, his spoil turned out to be rather meager, just some hard roots, herbs and some water. He shrugged, a meager meal was still better than none at all. Heedlessly, he knocked over one more pot, emptying it this way, before picking it up to threw in the ingredients he had found. If he would let the roots boil long enough, they certainly would get soft. If they would also turn out to be delicious was another matter, and he highly doubted it.

The first time the wanderer came to this place had been after the war. The poison had nearly killed him when he was found by a one-legged adolescent who had helped him to recover. The poor boy had not had the slightest idea whom the man, he had brought back to life, had been. And not only that, he also had offered the wanderer the first step to revenge. It does not need to be said, that he had not healed from one day to the other. It had taken many days – days that left for some interesting thoughts. In one of those the boy had spoken of a scroll he had managed to steal from an old nature-hag up in the mountains. He has said that it would contain the instruction for some powerful ritual – a ritual that allowed the performer to change history itself.

It had been a piece of cake to rob the scroll from the boy once he had recovered. And indeed, a ritual was written down there in old letters. A ritual called "death's path".

As the boy had said, the scripture claimed the possibility to change the past by entering the realm of death. The only problem had been, that the scroll had been damaged, which had been the only reason for him to come here.

He had found her soon enough and searched through her whole hut, but still he had not been able to find the missing part. And that woman herself she couldn't – or wouldn't – tell anything else about the ritual that was not already noted on the scroll.

At that time he already considered killing her, but she had proposed a deal to him: as long as he would let her live and pay her (by bringing her items she couldn't get herself), she would prepare a potion for him that would keep him alive – it had been already plain at that time that the poison kept on working in his body and would continue to weaken him -, as well as prepare the potions he needed for the ritual.

It had been a good deal, one that had paid off up until now. Therefore, it was regrettable that he had to end it on short notice.

Night passed, dawn was closing in. There was only a slight change in the weather still the weak light of morning would ease his way back down. Besides, the wanderer did not plan to stay any longer in the presence of a corpse. Or to waste time that he did not possess. He had no longer access to the tincture of that witch; now there remained no means of stopping his ceasing.

He had to admit that his situation had now turned out to be quite desperate. He did not know how long his body would be able to endure anything; he did not know how long he himself would be able to fight or even to defend himself; he did not know if he ever would find the solution for the death's path.

Slowly, he probed his way down step by step. The way down proved to be as difficult as the way up. What had he been thinking the previous night to hunt that girl in such a storm and on such insecure terrain? If he thought about it he had been pretty lucky that he had not broken anything – he did not dare of even worse possibilities. Damn that impulsive moment of his. He had to be a lot more careful in the future. The next heedless, emotional fit might be his last one.

The sun made its way up the sky, somewhere behind the rainy clouds. The wanderer proceeded on his journey, unsure where to turn to.

* * *

After my visit to the hokage, the day turned back to its normal routine: files, files and files again, till it was time for my well-earned knocking-off time. Which I surely could have enjoyed peacefully if I had not stumbled into Sato, who happened today to go off duty at the same time as myself. Regretfully, this is exactly what has happened. And unfortunately for me, he asked me again to help him on his way down the stairs. What should I have done? Leaving a one-legged man up there? I seriously couldn't persuade myself to do so.

And thus I helped him. The way down together with the young man is not what posed the real problem to me. My real problem has been waiting at the end of the stairs in the figure of my friend Ino grinning at and waving to me. Not only has she begun immediately to shoot one question after another at who that cute guy with that mouse-brown hair was whom I accompanied; no, what else should be the case, she also has decided to drag me along with. And that is the reason why I now – she has linked arms with me – walk through the streets of Konoha listening to her babbling.

"…endless discussions. Do you have any idea how often I had to listen to that lately? A hundred times at least! But of course you know. After all, you worked for Tsunade, too. It wouldn't be so bad if it would get somewhere, which it doesn't. I really don't know how…"

And that's where I stop listening. Besides, for what reason should I do so? It is none of my business. Granted, I should perhaps muster some interest as Ino tries to inform me how things are going with the Hyuuga clan; but that they aim for a double representation by both main and side branch, so that decisions will be made together in future, although announcement remains a duty of the main branch alone, is nothing new. So what do I get from it (or anybody else) if this can only put into action after the death of the clan eldest?

"…listening? He, Sakura?"

There is a short moment of pain as Ino pinches my arm. Seems like I have let my thoughts off far too obvious.

"Where have you been with your thoughts?", she asks, grinning.

I do not answer. Regardless, what I would say – or would not say -, it would be a wrong answer either way. It seems that Ino perceives my reluctance and decides to accept it for this time, since she does not follow this topic further. Instead she turns around and says: "Well, whatever. We're here." And at once she steps into the small teahouse.

For a moment I consider using this opportunity to sneak away without being noticed, but Ino isn't dumb. She would notice either way. And what would the remaining options then be? Either she would drag me literally into the store or she would follow me all the way and nag. Neither the one nor the other seem very attractive to, and so I choose the smallest (and least embarrassing) evil and enter with a sigh.

Ino has been waiting right behind the door and looks at me impatiently. Her right foot keeps tapping onto the wooden floor in a fast rhythm. "Don't act so bitchy, Sakura", she says slightly irritated. "It's been forever since we have been out for dinner together." A moment later, she is already at the counter and orders said dinner – of course, doing my ordering as well.

We sit down at one of the tables and I use the break in Ino's monologue to look around the room. The teahouse is furnished in the traditional style with low tables and a lot of wood. There are several ikebana arrangements and ink-drawings placed along the wall. The one closest to us shows a river scenery with fishermen. I try to view it carefully, although I know that doing this is not only useless, but might also be considered quite impolite. Besides, there isn't any chance that such an action will bar Ino from discussing whatever she has to discuss with me.

Trying to stall for some time, I decided to open a conversation this time: "So, how's it come that you are assisting Tsunade?"

My blonde friend looks at me confused. "Haven't you heard yet? Shizune is pregnant."

I just am glad that our drinks haven't been served yet; otherwise, mine would now probably splattered across the table or I would be coughing severely. "Pregnant? But she is already past forty."

Not that this could be considered a real reason for her not to be pregnant. And also I would not claim the thought of Shizune having a relationship to be ridiculous or absurd. She is a pretty woman. The only hindrance would probably be that she works (or rather has worked) for Tsunade, which equals "having no time at all". Still, she is more than forty years old and that will be her first child. This risk that something goes wrong at her age is considerably higher than under normal circumstances. And she, as one of Konoha's best medic-nins, has to know that.

"True", Ino says, nodding knowingly. "But I don't need to tell you that Tsunade is also aware of that. And that she, too, knows about all the risks. That's the reason why she sent Shizune on vacation the moment she found out. And not only that. Poor Shizune is under 24/7 medical supervision. She cannot make a single step without being accompanied."

"And…and the father is…?"

"Genma. The news caught him completely unaware." I can see malicious joy on Ino's face as she tells me everything, and she really seems to enjoy it. "You should've seen his face when Tsunade told him. He totally lost it. I almost feared we had to reanimate him. But I must say…your reaction was up to par with his." My friend looks at me gloatingly, and I feel a strong urge to slap her.

But before I get a chance to do so, a waiter scuttles over to us, kneels down at our table and puts down the bowls – her movements are neither too hectically nor too slow, but show an admirable grace. I cannot help but wonder how long it must have taken her to perform these procedures with such perfection.

We murmur the traditional phrase for the beginning of a meal and solely concentrate on eating for now: the dishes are rice, sour-marinated vegetables and fish complemented with ordinary green tea as drink.

Surprisingly, Ino really manages to focus only on her food; but as soon as she finishes, she places her chopsticks across her bowl, her left arm on the table, so that it might support her head.

"Yeah, I guess no one expecting that something that might happen to Shizune of all people. But now this is the case Konoha will see to that she and her child will be alright. We know both: Should necessity arise – or not -, Tsunade will line up every single ninja in Konoha to ensure that nothing happens during the pregnancy and birth." She starts to giggle. "Just imagine this. Hundreds of ninja armed to the teeth, faces deathly serious and every single one of them ready to fight, are standing around one bed, in which Shizune is lying, tired, but very, very happy. And our very much beloved hokage is standing right next to that bed, flowing over with pride, the child on her arm and does 'cuchi-cuchi-cu'."

Ino can no longer hold in her laughter, and I myself can't help but to crack a smile. Regardless, how strict and vehement Tsunade might be, when it is about people she deeply cares for, she can show quite an astounding exaggerated care. Therefore, such a ridiculous scene cannot completely be ruled out of the picture. (Hopefully, Tsunade will never get to know about this joke. Otherwise, Ino and myself will have the joy of having a long vacation in hospital.)

After my friend calms down, she clears her throat and then looks at me seriously. I know, we have now reached the moment, when she will disclose to me, why she really wanted to have dinner with me. I cannot help but gulp.

"Sakura", she says this very calm. "Don't you think, it's about time to move on?"

I knew I wouldn't like the topic at all. And I really feel no desire to talk about something like that. I've been running from this question, this conversation for so long. I would love to do so now, too. I just want to stand up and storm out of here. But something prevents me from doing so. Is it because I don't wish to embarrass Ino? Or is it a weak revival of the rivalry we once shared with one another, the wish not to show any weakness in front of Ino?

Whatever it may be, it keeps me put where I am. Even though I can still not bring myself to answer Ino or even to just look at her.

"Sakura", Ino sighs exasperated. "You're not making it easy for us." She places her hand on top of mine, which is lying on the table. "Do you have any idea how excited, how happy Tsunade was when saw that it was you who had adjusted this mission for Karin? Ever since the affair with Kiba, this has been the first sign that you might return to be the person who you once used to be. Certainly, in the end that is not really possible. Only a fool would say that you haven't been mark by that event. You're never going to be the same person you were before his death. But Tsunade hoped – we hoped – you would now slowly start to wake up from your lethargy. We hoped you were about to begin living again, instead of letting yourself stupidly drift on. We really did hope so. After all, whether you believe it not, there are still people within Konoha who care for you. Not everyone feels as hostile towards you as Neji. And you're hurting exactly those people. We want to help you, but you won't let us. You're blocking us out and make clear so whenever we happen to meet. This might sound pretty harsh, but I have cursed more than once silently and wished that you might be gone. For the single reason that your seclusion, the refusal you're showing would become more bearable."

She takes a deep breath and hesitates for a moment before she continues: "I cannot force you. I don't want to. This is your life. It's up to you what you want to do with it. You have to make your own decisions. I can only give some advice as a friend. If you're going to listen to them, is not up to me. But still I will give you an advice right now: take it, Sakura. Take this mission. It could be your last chance."

Ino's grip on my hand tightens for a moment. Then she rises, puts some money on the table and leaves.

I stay behind, alone.

* * *

The young man watched as the two women went on their way. Chatting happily, the blonde one dragged her friend along. One thing was for certain: If he had not asked Sakura for help once again, she would have been spared that fated. And a lot of other things, too. But that was none of his concerns.

What did interest him, though, was to get the young woman out of the village. After all, he had decided for her to become one of his toys. And it was so pleasantly easy to manipulate her. He was sure he would have a lot of with her in the game to come.

But the playing field was not yet completely set up. He had chosen his pawns. He knew his opponent – even though that one did not know anything about it yet. Know he had to see to that the pawns would move to their beginning position.

Sakura would definitely follow the call he had prepared for her; he was sure about that.

Now, all he had to do was to guide the second pawn, to ensure that the two of them would meet; and then the game could start.

He turned around, a smirk on his lips, and limped, supported by his crutch, towards the village gate to disappear into the evening behind it.

* * *

A new day. New tasks.

And this time, it is a true statement. I don't know why – and even though I know better -, but I decided to go on this mission. That's the reason why I am now standing in front of the gates, a backpack strapped, a scroll with instructions in my hand, and am listening to my mission leader Karin. We're just a two-man (rather woman) team. Therefore, decisions only need to be made between the two of us. Which shouldn't prove to be too hard. And still, Karin keeps going on and on about the distribution of roles in our team and how awful it is that I, of all people, have to go with her.

This makes me almost to regret my decision. That she is gonna be the 'big boss', I understood the first time she mentioned it; that we're not planning to become best friend, is a mutual understanding; and that I will be getting on her nerves was destined from the start. Real, all of this makes me wonder what this woman is thinking. At first she throws a fit that I should write out a mission and that she – let me quote it – 'only wants to help me'; and now, she receives her mission and I've accepted her help, but everything she can do is complain. That she did not have this possibility on her screen, I'm not buying that.

Finally, Karin ends her soloquy. She has said what she wanted to say, so I hope she is happy now. I for my part am happy, as long as she is silent. To be honest, I could think of people more pleasant to travel with than her, especially when it comes to being my superior.

For a moment I feel some melancholy rise. It would have been if Naruto or Kakashi or even Ino could have joined this team. It would have had something nostalgic, something familiar. Just from the looks of it, it seems that Ino was right – this really might be my last chance to return to life. I should use it. I will use it.

I cannot help but sigh; in the same moment I catch a glimpse who Karin raises an eyebrow whil looking at me. Then she turns around and starts moving out. What else is left for me, but follow her.

It seems that there are some enjoyable and sociable days are up ahead.

* * *

AN: I know, it's been over a year that this story has been updated. Unfortunately, I had that whole year no time for writing at all. But somehow, I'm back. All I need to do now, is to catch up with my own story to proceed. Therefore, I cannot say when the next chapter will be published. But at least I have a rough I idea what is going to happen there. I hope you can bear with me until then.


End file.
